He could feel her laughter against his chest, and at that moment he thought that there was no better feeling than making Emma Morley laugh.

I worry sometimes that I'm a bit moralistic; always writing about men who are learning to grow up, not be so self-absorbed, selfish or badly behaved. I wonder if that's dull and liberal and wimpy? I should probably write something that celebrates wickedness.

Mortified at the speed with which intimacy evaporates.

Well, I don't think Hollywood's a dirty word at all, I love a lot of Hollywood films.

I still find it absurdly difficult to concentrate on a novel if there's a phone or computer to hand; I have taken to locking them outside the room like noisy pets.

I'm not the consolation prize, Dex. I'm not something you resort to. I happen to think I'm worth more than that.

I am not up to this. I am not capable. I thought I would be, but I'm not. Some part of me is missing, and I cannot do this.